Sherlockmas
by Mockingfire
Summary: John stared up at the top of the Christmas tree transfixed, to where a beautiful angel rested, looking down at the room below, it's arms extended out wide, as though pondering whether or not to... "It's been two years...' "is that supposed to make a difference?"...


_**a little one shot, I haven't written a Christmas fic before so I thought with season 3 coming up it was about time. just a little something I thought up, not my best writing, just a quick write so sorry for any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them :)**_

_**enjoy! (any reviews are greatly appreciated! :D )**_

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'Merry Christmas!' Molly exclaimed when Mrs Hudson opened the door.

'Merry Christmas Dear. Come on in.' The woman smiled talking her coat and hanging it on a hook.

The two women walked into the sitting room where the others were. Lestrade was over by the window, chatting to John, who was seated on the sofa, one arm around the shoulders of the blonde woman beside him.

They all turned as they entered the room.

'Molly, you made it!' John said with a smile when he saw her, standing to kiss her cheek. 'It's so nice to see you.' He told her, then led her over to the sofa, 'Molly, I'd like you to meet Mary.' He said proudly, placing a hand on the woman in question's shoulder and said 'and Mary, this is Molly.'

'A pleasure to meet you at last, John's told me a lot about you.' Mary told her warmly.

'The pleasure's all mine' Molly said, turning a little pink, getting a check on herself she added. 'I believe a congratulations is in order.'

Mary held out a dainty left hand to display an engagement ring.

'Oh its gorgeous!' Molly exclaimed.

'It's not much...' John started but Mary cut in

'it's perfect' she told him meeting his eyes with a loving smile, which he returned.

They were interrupted by Mrs Hudson, 'here you go dear.' She said, handing Molly a drink.

'oh thank you.'

'Merry Christmas everyone.' Lestrade toasted, holding his drink up.

'Merry Christmas' they all replied, raising their own glasses.

**(*_later on that evening_*)**

Lestrade hadn't stayed for dinner,he'd been called into the station and the girls had gone to help Mrs Hudson clear up after the meal. So John sat alone,after being shooed out of the kitchen by the women.

John stared up at the top of the Christmas tree transfixed, to where a beautiful angel rested, looking down at the room below, it's arms extended out wide, as though pondering whether or not to...

'John?' He turned, his train of thought thankfully broken, to see Molly standing next to him, the look on her face, told him she'd been there a while.

'Can I sit down?' She asked gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

'Of course.' He said shuffling up slightly.

They sat side by side in silence for a few minutes, listening to Mary trying to help as Mrs Hudson bustled about in the kitchen.

'John?'

He turned to face her 'Yes?'

'Are you alright?' She asked.

'Of course.' He said, though he didn't quite meet her eyes.

She frowned. 'I mean, really, alright? because you know, I'm not stupid, I can see right through you. I never see you any more. I've seen you maybe once since last Christmas? You've been avoiding us.'  
John didn't reply.  
'It's about him isn't it? Sherlock?'

John dropped his gaze to his knees, suddenly fascinated with the glass in his hands.

'See' she told him knowingly, with a sad smile.

'It's been almost two years...' John muttered.

'Is that supposed to make a difference? because from where I'm sitting no amount of time can change the fact that he's gone, and that it hurts.'

She placed a hand over his. 'You and him. Exactly the same. He always thought that no one saw when he was hurting. He put on a brave front, but I saw past it because it wasn't me he was trying to hide it from. It was you.'

She paused thoughtfully, 'I suppose part of him was also hiding from himself. He couldn't admit something was wrong. And you're doing exactly the same to yourself.'

'When did you get so smart, Molly?'

'It's not about being clever, I just pay attention, and I know what to look for, because I've seen it all too many times myself. In the mirror.'

John sighed, squeezing her hand gently.

'You're not the only one who misses him you know? Don't ever think you're on your own. You're not. You've got other friends John, don't push them away.'

'After everything...' John started then trailed off, rethinking his words. 'I keep thinking I've gotten over it. That I've finally got my life back in order and then all of a sudden it hits me again, and my limps back and...I still see him Molly.'

'You do?...' A worried crease settling itself between her eyebrows.

He nodded.

'It's not as bad as it used to be. I used to see him everywhere, walking down the road, at work, even in the supermarket, and he'd never have been found dead in one of those places...'

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

'Living with Mary has helped. Being away from this place.' He gestured at the room. 'Whenever I'm here, I just expect him to stroll in...'

'There's nothing wrong with missing someone.' the corners of her lips tilted up slightly, 'Anderson on the other hand. That's what we'd call denial.'

John cracked a smile. 'How's his fan club going?'

'Worryingly well. I suppose it just shows you how much Sherlock meant to people. Though I think in Anderson's case, I'm not entirely convinced he misses him. He still thinks he's alive, he's always hated him, not surprised after his wife found out about him and Sally which of course couldn't be anyone's fault but Sherlock's.' she rolled her eyes, 'He was the first to accuse him of being a criminal and he never got to see him locked up. Even after they found Sherlock's phone on the roof, he just couldn't accept it.'

'They still got the hats?'

Molly laughed 'yes...'

'Hideous things. The whole things a ridiculous idea if you ask me. I do hate it when he's right.' A voice said from the doorway.

Molly and John both turned instantly to face the newcomer, the voice hauntingly familiar, like a recurring dream.

Molly let out a muffled shriek.

John stared at the figure, blinking furiously, thinking this must be a dream.

Long coat, dark hair, cheekbones...it couldn't be...

'Sherlock?' He asked, though he already knew the answer.

'Hello John.' ...

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_** hope you enjoyed it :) as I said any comments would be really appreciated, like it? hate it? let me know :D**_

_**Happy Christmas peeps! Have a great one! xx**_

_**Amber xx**_


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